“Now let us see what the mightiest of the gods can do,” said the king, as Loki withdrew to the furthest end of the hall. Thor had been looking on gloomily at Loki’s failure; but the king’s tone roused up all his anger, and he stepped boldly forward, saying, “I will undertake to empty in one draught any drinking horn that you can place before me.” So Utgard-Loke commanded his men to bring out a great drinking horn, and as he handed it to Thor the king said: “Here is a cup which the youngest among us can empty in three draughts. A strong man needs to quaff it twice, but a mighty warrior such as you should finish it all at one drinking.” The king’s tone was so insulting that Thor felt his fingers tighten on the handle of his hammer, and he longed to hurl it at Utgard-Loke’s head; but he took the horn and set it to his lips.
He drank long and deeply until he felt sure that he had drained every drop of the liquid; but when he looked into the horn, he saw that it was but half emptied. “What is the trouble, is the drink too large for the Mighty One of Asgard?” asked Utgard-Loke, contemptuously. At these words Thor flew into a great rage, and, grasping the horn more tightly, he drank as he had never drunk before. Then he set the vessel down, feeling sure that it must now be empty; but he found to his surprise that it was hardly less full than before he began to drink. A loud laugh of derision greeted him, and the king cried scornfully: “Is this the great skill in drinking of which you boasted so freely? The emptying of this horn should be but child’s play; but perhaps the mighty Thor is weary.”
“Give me the horn,” roared the angry god, who was raging inwardly at having to endure these taunts. So a third time Thor drank; and when he stopped to take breath, he threw the horn aside, not waiting to look down into it, for he felt certain that there could not be a drop left in it. But one of the giants caught it up and showed him how much of the liquid still remained. Enraged at this unexpected humiliation, Thor refused to drink any longer, and would barely listen when Utgard-Loke asked him if he would engage in any trial of strength. “We will propose a game which is a favourite pastime among our children, so the defender of Asgard will be able to do the thing with ease. It is merely to lift my cat from the ground.”
These words so infuriated Thor that he strode angrily out of the hall, but before he had gone far, he encountered a huge bunch of bristling fur that effectively barred his way. His first impulse was to strike the cat with his hammer, but remembering Utgard-Loke’s insulting words, he grasped the great creature by the middle, intending to throw it aside. But though he tried with all the strength of his powerful arm to move the cat, he could not stir it from its place; and the higher he sought to lift it, the higher it arched its back without ever raising one foot from the ground. Thor’s arm was now lifted as high as it would go, but he could not budge the great cat an inch. So at last he let go his hold and turned to meet the scornful laughter of the whole company of giants.
“Is this the strength we have been taught to fear?” cried Utgard-Loke. “Surely the gods do not call so puny a fellow as this the defender of Asgard. Perhaps Thor is only mocking us, however, and will prove his boasted strength in some worthier contest.”
“Give me a chance to wrestle with the strongest giant among you, and I will soon show you whether my strength can be scorned!” cried Thor, who was longing to hurl his hammer at the king’s head and make him cease his insulting words.
“Your boasting has all been idle,” said Utgard-Loke, looking sternly at the angry god, “so I will not match you against our strongest men. But here comes my old nurse, Ellie, and you may try a wrestle with her.”
Thor looked around as a shrivelled old woman, bent and toothless, hobbled feebly into the hall. Her sightless eyes seemed to blink with an almost supernatural intelligence as she made her way straight toward the spot where the god was standing. “Do not scorn to wrestle with old Ellie,” cried the king, “for she has got the better of many a strong man before now.”
So Thor grasped the hag firmly and tried to throw her to the ground, but she gripped his body with her thin arms and clung to him with such amazing strength that he had to exert all his force to keep from being strangled. The more he struggled, the tighter grew the old woman’s hold, and even his arm which held the hammer was rendered useless by her vise-like grip. He felt himself slowly weakening, and soon one knee was on the ground. Then the hag loosed her hold, and, with a mocking laugh, hobbled out of the hall.
Thor rose up, ashamed and humiliated by this last defeat; but the anger had died out of his eyes, and he stood before Utgard-Loke with bent head. No one had ever seen the strongest of the gods so humbled. Then the king smiled upon him kindly and said, “Let us forget both our pride and our foolish boasting, and share the feast as friends; for we will now offer you the best of food and drink that there is in the land of Jötunheim.” So a bountiful meal was spread before them; and, in the friendly hospitality of the king, Thor forgot the insults which he had lately received at Utgard-Loke’s hands.